Chapter Four:

Nico released Dean, and hurried to peer behind the trees in all directions. After all, they didn't want any midnight wanderers to come across their training. Though, he wondered what they would see... Based on the fact that most of the people here believed that sticks were the best weapon, probably a duel with those. He couldn't understand their faith in those sticks. Sure, they had magic, but magic could be deflected with anything solid, while a sword could pass through their force-field like shields. Even with just his sword, and no proper shield, they'd have no chance.

Once he had assured the coast was clear, he turned back to Dean, who had long finished checking his side, and was instead inspecting his hammer. Nico almost recoiled at the thought of what gadgets could spring from the metal – anything made by a son of Hephaestus was a force to be reckoned with.

After a few moments, his opponent looked up, and swung his hammer with a wicked grin. Offering a smirk in return, Nico jumped forward with his sword, taking care to keep his knives hidden; he wanted to appear cocky, with only one weapon, and, by default, be underestimated.

They met with a clash of celestial bronze, sending sparks in all directions, and quickly fell into the staggered rhythm of the 'duel'. Duck, thrust, parry, thrust, duck, parry, parry, thrust, duck... It went on. Dean, beginning to tire, finally revealed the true worth of his hammer.

A four-pronged dagger burst free of the casing, ends dipped in poison. The toxin was diluted, so that it would only cause temporary paralysis, and not death. But it was still highly dangerous, and effective. Should it so much as scratch Nico, it would render the Ghost King utterly incapacitated for a full ten minutes. Ample time for a kill. As Nico was already spotted with bruises from the hammer, it appeared that Dean would win this fight.

He raised the dagger in his left hand, pushing it into the fray, forcing it closer to Nico. Slowly, he closed the distance, his hammer still fighting to deflect the sword. Two inches... one...

Suddenly, his opponent was gone, vanished. He felt cold metal at the back of his neck.

"Honestly Dean! You need to watch your back! Remember Percy's 'duck and roll' tactic? Slipping between your legs?"

"Di immortales! How could I forget about that? Percy nearly killed me when he did that! Wait, since when do you use Percy's tactics?"

"Since he used it against me last week. It works."

Shaking his head, Dean replaced his dagger, and rubbed a spot on his arm where Nico had nicked him. Laughing at their own mistakes, they shadow-travelled back to the dorm. Finally free of the long avoided memories, Nico was able to sleep almost peacefully.

He was walking through the halls. It was the seventh floor, right by the tapestry of the trolls learning ballet. There was a door on the wall, one that hadn't been there before. He pushed it open, revealing a room, filled to the brim with piles of forbidden possessions. He wasn't sure how he knew they were forbidden, but he did.

Following instinct, he carved a path through the room, until, at the very back, he found a badly chipped bust. Beside it, lay a wig, and, more importantly, a battered tiara. The tiara was dainty, perhaps once polished silver, with an eagle carved into the face, and a brilliant blue sapphire pressed into the body of the bird.

Tearing his mind from its appearance, he instead noticed the strange rattling coming from it. A closer inspection showed the shadows around it warped, and changed, as though they couldn't decide which shape the tiara was. Sometimes they looked like the object itself, but others... They looked like a face.

A darkness hung about the tiara, and he knew. This was what he was hunting down; a piece of Voldemort's soul. He reached towards it, drawing his sword at the same time. He raised it, ready to strike it through, and rip the soul from its case...

"Nico! Oi, Nico! Get up, Death Boy! We're gonna be late!"

"What the Hades! Dean, you bastard!" he yelled, as he was whacked with a pillow. Apparently, since using water would make Poseidon mad, murder by pillow was the next big thing.

"Oh, stop complaining. You almost missed breakfast, and McGonagall sent up your brazier. Honestly, you should have just asked me. I always keep a small one in my pocket. Now get ready. I'm hungry!" he called, pushing the curtains open on the window, and rummaging in his trunk for a robe.

Nico crawled out and dressed slowly, grumbling all the way. Grogginess was winning over hunger. Under normal circumstances, this would get him eaten by harpies, but now... He was getting used to a normal life – well, mostly normal. The only real issue was the tiara in his dream.

Thinking about it, he finally woke up properly. He knew now that there was a room on that corridor, hidden away. Demigod dreams always gave a message, and this one had told him where to find the first piece of Tom's soul. The only thing he needed now, was the way to reveal that room. And the only people he could ask without fear were Luna and Dean. Perhaps even that Aphrodite girl, Chang, but he'd rather avoid her. Aphrodite girls were always a bit airheaded, and he didn't want to deal with that.

Glancing around, he saw that there was still one other boy left in the room, Seamus. If he wanted to talk to Dean, it would have to be in Greek.

"Hey, Dean? D'you know anything about the room opposite that painting of trolls learning ballet?"

"What room? There's no room there. Corridor's empty," he replied, looking puzzled.

"I guess not, then. It's hidden, I saw it in a dream. I need to get in there," Nico sighed. Shaking his head, he tramped out of the room, falling slightly behind Dean as he didn't know the route to the Great Hall.

Making sure he still had his brazier, he piled his plate high, then made his sacrifice. 'To Hades and Hecate,' he thought, before diving into his plate.

Once he had eaten his fill, McGonagall marched over to the table, armed with timetables. He blanched as he realised that they would be in English, and he'd have to translate all of them. He shuddered to think of what essays would be like.

Taking his with a murmured thanks and a wince, he began the long, tiresome process of unscrambling the words. When he was done, he groaned. First, he had Transfiguration. He'd heard the horror stories from Percy – being turned into a guinea pig had scarred him for life, apparently. If Nico got turned into a guinea pig, all Hades would break lose. Literally; he'd call up an army of skeletons to rough the wizard up a bit. You don't mess with a son of Hades.

Gathering up his books, he dragged himself up the staircase behind his peers. Dean, knowing why he was so reluctant, chuckled good-naturedly.

"Relax, Nico. She won't turn you into a guinea pig," he said comfortingly, then grinned evilly.

"Human transfiguration isn't until next year!" Nico's eyes widened dramatically, before he deflated, relieved. If his quest ended quickly, he wouldn't have to come back. He could get tutors from the Hecate kids, no problem. The only reason Dean still came here was that he was meant to be muggleborn, and could not be tutored at home. Though why he went to school in England when he lived in America, Nico didn't know. He made a note to ask him at some point.

Transfiguration wasn't bad, as he found it rather similar to manipulating the shadows. Dean had advised him to just say what he wanted to happen in Greek, and will it to happen. While confusing at first, this proved highly effective, and would work in all of the other subjects requiring an incantation. He was basically learning the same ideas as the rest of the class, just in a different language. So long as no one heard what he said, he could pass for a normal student.

After Transfiguration, however, perhaps the worst subject: Defence Against the Dark Arts. Not only was it taught by the Toad, but since Nico was technically Dark, he was learning to defend himself, against himself.

He managed to force himself to climb the stairs up to the Defence classroom, but one look in and he almost walked right back out. The walls of the room had been decorated with pink tassels and pictures of kittens, in every space possible. He supposed that for any of the previous Professors it would hold paintings of dark creatures, but with the Toad... He was hard pressed to keep from vomiting at the sight.

Once everyone had sat down, the pink monster trotted through the door. She stood at the front, and smiled. Nico felt ill. Not from fear, but from sheer disgust. How anyone could be so revolting he hoped he never knew. It was the worst sight he'd ever seen – and he'd seen the Underworld.

The lesson was, for lack of a better word... interesting. Though her teaching methods were boring, and learning theory was always a drag, the arguments with his fellows were nothing short of hilarious. Toad Face went utterly red when Bushy asked why there would be no practical, but her colouring was a sight to behold when Harry mentioned Tom. Nico could barely hold back a scoff when she said that there was nothing out there that would try to kill them. If there was nothing, what were the monsters that tried to attack camp on an almost daily basis? What were the gods, who were constantly threatening to vaporise himself and his cousin? The woman was mad!

After Harry was sent to McGonagall, however, the intended monotony set in. All he could do was read that annoying book, that even he knew was out on too many counts to even be called comedy. It was just plain junk! He vowed to burn it as a sacrifice to Persephone at lunch. He never did like his stepmother.

When the torture by boredom was over at last, he sprinted up to the Common Room, stopping only when he got lost – several times – and when he realised he couldn't remember the password. After waiting five minutes for another Gryffindor to get there, he gave up, and called out to a passing ghost.

"Hey, you there! What's the password to Gryffindor Common Room?" Normally, he would be more polite, but right now, he just wasn't in the mood. Besides, this ghost had escaped Judgment, and he wasn't exactly happy with him.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia, my boy. But please, do watch your tone," the ghost replied, after checking that Nico was a Gryffindor. For a moment, Nico was surprised at his lack of reaction, then felt elated. These ghosts had been away from the Underworld so long, they thought Minos was still the Ghost King! If that were so, Nico would no longer have to hide from the ghosts, as they could not cause suspicion! Smirking slightly, he waved goodbye to the ghost, and turned back to the Fat Lady. He was about to say the password, when he noticed something.

The Fat Lady was like Hestia. She would sit around all day, helping the Gryffindors get in and out of their tower, just as Hestia tended to the fire at camp. And, also like Hestia, no one ever stopped to appreciate what she did for them. Until now, Nico had been like the rest, yet since he'd recognised the connection, he couldn't just stand by. He spoke to Hestia because she seemed lonely, and the Fat Lady was the same.

"Hi, I'm Nico di Angelo. What's your name?" he asked, smiling softly. Her eyes widened. It was immediately obvious that she had never had anyone ask her this before.

"Bianca. My name is Bianca." Nico felt as if the floor had fallen from beneath his feet. He wasn't ready to hear his sister's name again, even if he thought of it frequently. It was different, somehow. Yet it didn't make it hard to talk to Bianca. Just the opposite, in fact.

He carried on talking to Bianca while she let the other Gryffindors in. They didn't seem interested, except Dean. He'd never talked to Hestia before, but that was not because he didn't care. He was just too busy trying to fit in with his siblings. He too noticed the similarities, and was eager to make up for his lack of attention at camp with Bianca.

She had been alive back in the 1600s, and had been a member of Gryffindor House (obviously). She had, at one point, been close friends with a descendent of Gryffindor himself, a man named Wilfred. It was he who had her painting placed in front of Gryffindor Tower, after she died from a snake bite. He had wanted to see some part of her every day, as they had been close since childhood; like pseudo siblings. Eventually, though, he was killed in the dead of night by an heir of Slytherin – the same heir that had ordered the snake to kill Bianca.

His entire House had been involved in this plot, and it was this fact, and not the 'epic duel' between Salazar and Godric, that led to the current enmity between the two Houses. Nico couldn't understand this. After all, the two incidents occurred long before their time, so surely people should be over it by now? Conflict between ancestors should never effect the present – Percy and Annabeth were proof of that.

Bianca had just finished her tale when the bell rang, calling Dean and Nico to Potions. They bade her farewell, before walking slowly to the dungeons, minds whirling with what they had heard.